A Penderwicks Christmas
by Jane Penderwick
Summary: This is a Christmas Penderwicks story, set five years in the future back at Arundel. It is a story of discovering what love and family really mean. Eventually Skye/Jeffrey.
1. The Start of Something New

Hey so this is my first attempt at a story for this little fandom, though I have been around a while, usually commenting under the name Jane. This is set five years in the future back once again in Arundel. I am apologizing now in case my characters should be too OOC. While it is difficult to write these girls in general (and I applaud all of you wonderful writers here that do so much better at it than I am sure to do) I found it especially hard to write it in the future and to depict the girl's maturation and changes. Anyway, message me and tell me what you think. Constructive criticism and pointers are welcomed for sure (especially for my characterization!). Sorry the beginning chapter is so unoriginal, it gets better from here. Also it is a Christmas story, and there is no chance I will be done by Christmas but I hope this doesn't make it hard to relate to. This first chapter (maybe I'll post two?) is just to see what kind of response I can get, so whether or not I continue depends completely on you guys. It will eventually be Skye/Jeffrey because I cannot help myself.

Disclaimer: No copy right is intended with any of the material you see here, my thoughts alone are my own. The Penderwicks belongs solely to the lovely Mrs. Birdsall.

The Start of Something New

It started as every Penderwick adventure did, in the too full jeep, everyone squished and simultaneously irritable and excited. On this trip though, the emotions in the car were all especially heightened, because the Penderwicks were on their way to their favorite place in the entire world, Arundel. It was also Christmas vacation, and this, of course, is the greatest holiday of them all. While it is hard to get all of the Penderwicks to agree on something, they never had trouble agreeing on this.

Because of the holiday though, the old jeep was especially packed. Besides the usual things, clothes, soccer balls, jackets, fifty pounds of dog food, at least ten of Jane's favorite books, Batty's keyboard that she insisted on bringing (though Arundel was home to three pianos total) and eight people plus Hound, the car was stuffed with presents and decorations. The poor Jeep sagged miserably under the load and whimpered every time Rosalind stepped on the accelerator too quickly.

Like the jeep, Hound was also whimpering, mostly likely suffering with a stomach ache. Skye too, was whimpering, or perhaps grumbling is a better word, about Batty's elbow in her side and Hound sitting on her foot, looking like he might puke on her new boots.

"Scooch Batty, your elbow is in my spleen," she moaned.

Batty, now nine and all awkward angles and limbs that she had yet figured out what to do with, paid her no mind though, as she was bent forward carefully accessing the state of her poor dog. "Can a dog turn green?" she asked, her voice a little muffled as her head was basically between her knobby knees.

"No," Skye said.

"Are you sure…?" Batty asked.

Rosalind, who was eighteen and driving to get some "practice" in bad weather, looked like she might just be a pale shade of green herself. It was her first time ever having to drive in the snow, all be it just a few inches. "What is going on back there?" she asked. There was a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead, where it crinkled in worry.

"Dolor, my Rosy," said Mr. Penderwick. Focus.

Just then, there was a great hacking noise, and Hound puked… all over Skye's new L.L. Bean trekking boots. Batty sat up straight, her nose crinkled.

"Hound barfed," she said, stating the obvious; something that everyone was already painfully aware of.

Skye closed her eyes and set her jaw, counting down from a thousand, certain she would lose it before she got to 950.

Jane snorted, "Déjà vu," she said, looking up briefly from her blue notebook to grin at a scowling Skye, who looked as though she was going to attempt to burn though her with her crystal blue eyes.

"Easy," said Iantha gently. "We are almost there."

979…978…977…976… Skye paused in her angry counting to think of Jeffrey. It was hard to be mad at anything when she was thinking about him. Skye was seventeen now, and hadn't seen Jeffrey since he surprised her for a visit on her sixteenth birthday party. He had been so much taller than her, and had become very impressive at soccer, which she had found completely terrifying. So she had doubled her training in preparation for this visit that she had looked forward to for so long, in hoping of kicking his butt and wiping that stupid, goofy smile of his freckled face. Unfortunately there was nothing she could do about her height, so she just had to hope that he had hit his growth spurt early and hadn't gotten any taller since last time. His long legs were an unfortunate advantage when it came to all out sprints for the soccer ball.

"You are doing great, Rosy," said Tommy from the third row of seats. Rosalind smiled and turned around to look at him.

"Eyes on the road!" everyone shouted at once. Rosy turned around again, hastily, her face now while as her knuckles.

Tommy's parents were traveling to England for Christmas to visit Tommy's brother, Nick, where he was stationed there. Because Tommy gets violently sick on planes, he opted out of the trip, and the Penderwicks brought him along on their vacation, unable to stand the thought of him alone for Christmas. Skye noticed him take half a peanut butter sandwich from a paper bag, then she looked down at her foot which was cover in a brownish goo that smells suspiciously like peanut putter.

"Tommy! Did you feed Hound the other half of your sandwich?" Tommy shrunk away, and it was almost comical watching such a big guy shrink away from the fierce little blonde headed girl. "He was hungry…"

Skye was building up quite the storm to bring down on Tommy. "Skye," he father said sternly.

975…974…973…972…

Jane giggled almost against her will, and she tore her eyes away from her notebook to give Tommy a sympathetic look. "Sleep with one eye open tonight," she said, before diving back into her writing. Tommy's face was now green to match Rosalind's. They made quite a pair.

Jane, now sixteen, was busy writing a Sabrina Star. She didn't write them often anymore, because she had moved onto bigger and better things, but she decided to write one last story for old times' sake and in celebration of their grand return to Arundel after all these years.

971…970… 969… 968…967…

"Harry the Tomato Man!" cried Batty, as they passed his cart. It was covered in Poinsettias though, not tomatoes.

966…965…964…953…952…

Rosalind pulled into the long driveway as she breathed out a sigh of relief.

951…

A certain green-eyed, freckled boy came flying out of the mansion toward the car.

950! Skye leapt out of the jeep first, partly because she wanted desperately to get out of the tiny, cramped space, partly because she wanted to get away from the smell of puke, and mostly because she wanted to get to Jeffrey first.

She flung her arms around him in a hug that could easily be confused as a tackle. And Jeffrey, having forgotten Skye's sheer amount of enthusiasm, found himself vastly unprepared and lying on his back in the snow. Skye was beside him and he rolled over to grin at her widely before three other sisters and a dog descended upon him. It was Tommy that saved him, reaching down amongst the sisters and pulling Jeffrey out of the snow to his feet.

Drat. Skye thought. He was even taller than last time.

Jeffrey exchanged hugs with everyone then, along with "hellos" and "heys" and "it has been too longs."

Then, in a more personalized welcome for Skye, he turned to her and put his lips next to her ear. "You reek," he whispered.

Skye jerked away, scowling but laughing at the same time. "You can blame Tommy and Hound for that," she said.

"And you don't smell too great yourself. You smell like sweat," she added indignantly, but with a goofy grin that matched his.

Jeffrey flexed. "I have been working out."

Skye was about to counter this, when his mother called from the front step of the huge stone mansion, her face hard. She was yelling things about cold and frost bite and time for dinner in her usual clipped tone.

Jeffrey sighed. "It is so good to see you all," he said as he stooped to hug Batty for a second time. "Perhaps I will be able to slip away tonight and we can get a good game of snow soccer in, yes?"

"Like a secret mission," said Jane excitedly.

Jeffrey laughed and nodded. "Exactly," he said before turning around and running back for the house towards his mother, whose calls had climbed an octave and had become something more like threats.

"See you soon, Agent Jeffrey," Jane called after him.

Skye jabbed her in the ribs.

The cottage was just as they remembered, cozy and just as charming in the snow as it had been in the summer. It was however, a bit smaller, or so it felt like to the girls, either because there were three extra people here or because they had all grown much bigger themselves. Either way, there was much bumping into one another and squishing in to fit everyone and everyone's stuff into the little living room.

There would have to be some shift in sleeping arrangements as well. Batty and Ben offered to share immediately, and Iantha would sleep with Mr. Penderwick in the modified office as he did before, but finding a place for Tommy was more difficult. For obvious reasons he couldn't share with any of the girls, and though he offered to sleep on the couch, the ever polite Penderwicks would not allow this. Skye's previous room was the most obvious choice for sharing, as it was so big and had two beds, but Jane had no interest in relenting her attic hideaway to share with Skye and Skye certainly had no interest in relenting her perfectly clean room to share with Jane. It was Rosalind who saved the day offering to share with Skye as she was much neater and promised not to mess up the room and make her bed every morning. Skye still didn't see anything wrong with having Tommy sleep on the couch (he did offer after all). This also meant that Rosalind would not be as close to Batty, but Batty assured her that she would be ok when she was rooming with Ben. "Besides," Batty said, "I am nine now."

All the girls rushed upstairs then, eager to stash there things away. Jane was first up, running to her perfect little room to start stacking books in corners and set about writing, which she did immediately. Skye reached her room before Rosalind and picked the best bed as quickly as she could, throwing down her stuff to claim it. Only she felt guilty, as soon as she did so, so she gathered up her stuff again to wait for Rosy, who was no doubt showing Tommy his room and making sure Batty and Ben were all settled in.

Sure enough, Rosalind was leaning up against the door jamb of Tommy's room watching with a fond smile as he dumped his stuff there on the floor. He looked up at her to see him watching her, and he stood with a playful smile.

"What?" he asked. Rosy shook her head, still smiling.

He raised his eyebrows and crossed the room in a few short steps to wrap his arms around her. Rosy laughed and he kissed her smile.

"Gross," said a little voice from the closet that was distinctly five year old boy.

"Ben!" it was Batty's voice now. "Don't be rude!"

Rosalind pulled away from Tommy, biting back a laugh at Tommy's red face, before turning her attention to her littlest siblings who were peeking out of the closet door that was cracked open.

"Did I forget to mention that this room is linked via 'secret tunnel' to Batty's room?" she asked playfully.

She went to the closet and swung up Ben into her arms and ruffled Batty's hair. "Come on you two," she said as she disappeared into the closet, already explaining that they must knock on Tommy's closet door before going through, lest he be changing.

When she finally had them both settled, she went to her and Skye's room, to find Skye standing guiltily and awkwardly in the middle of the room, with all of her stuff still in her arms,

"You pick a bed," she said quickly.

Rosalind smiled fondly, carefully decided which one Skye would like the best, and left that one for her. Skye visibly relaxed and looked quite pleased with the arrangement.

"Thanks for not making me share with Jane," she said.

Rosalind looked over at her and nodded. "You deserve a vacation."

"So do you," said Skye, but before Skye could get stuck in a sappy conversation, there was a great clattering noise from outside. She rushed to the window.

"It is Jeffrey!" she cried. And sure enough, he was standing there in the snow, a soccer ball suspiciously in one hand, evidently what he had used to throw against her shudders.

Skye's yelling alerted all of the sisters to Jeffrey's arrival, and it wasn't long before they were all out in the snow, greeting him like they hadn't seen him in years. Jeffrey was laughing and trying desperately to quiet them down.

"My mother doesn't know that I slipped out," he explained. "She seems bent upon keep us apart."

"So it is a secret meeting then," Jane said excitedly, with a longing gaze at the cottage where she had accidently left her notebook in the excitement of his arrival.

Jeffrey nodded and proudly held up his soccer ball. "Who is up for getting their butt kicked in snow soccer?"

The game was ferocious, and the snow added a whole new level of fun. One could only stay on their feet so long before the slipped on a patch of ice and went sliding, often taking out other players as well, like a bowling ball might. The game was Jeffrey and Tommy versus Jane and Skye, and while Jeffrey was quite good, Tommy was never much of a soccer player. The sisters were a dynamic duo though, and with Jane's skill and Skye's effort, they were beating the boys 3-1 when Jeffrey said that he had to get home. He was about the duck back under the snowy garden hedge when Jane stopped him.

"Jeffrey your tracks!" He looked at her, clearly confused. "You footprints in the snow, they will give you away," Jane explained.

It was truly a conundrum (Jane's new favorite word) so Skye and Jane and Jeffrey all grouped up form a plan to get Jeffrey back home.

Skye decided it would be best to start from the beginning. "How exactly did you get out?" she asked.

Jeffrey grinned. "A rope latter hanging out of the tree next to my window." Skye grinned back, remembering their epic meeting there the first year they were here.

Skye broke a stick off from the hedge and used it to quickly draw a map of the cottage, the hedge and Arundel itself, with a big X drawn where Jeffrey's window was.

"What we need is a way to erase our footprints behind us as we walk," Jane said, rubbing her hands together to warm them up. Skye nodded.

"Jeffrey, does this map look about accurate to you?"

"Actually, we added new bushes here," Jeffrey said pointing at the picture in the snow. The new plants messed up Skye's plan for their mission and in frustration, she brushed the whole picture away, using the leafy end of the evergreen drawing stick to do so. Then she froze, her eyes gleaming with her unmistakable _I have a plan_ look.

"Uh oh," mumbled Jeffrey.

The plan went like this: the three friends first broke large branches off the hedge that were especially rich in pine needles, then they walked backward toward the rope latter tree, carefully avoiding the newly planted shrubs and using their branches almost like brooms, sweeping away their footprints as they walked.

It was either madness or genius, or mad genius, as Jane would describe it later. Either way, they made it to the rope later without leaving a single footprint in the yard to incriminate themselves.

Standing at the bottom of the latter, Jeffrey grinned at both of them. "See you tomorrow?" he asked, looking carefully at Skye.

"Do or die."


	2. Baseball Caps and Detective Work

I am throwing this one up too, so you guys can really get a feel for where the story is going. Let me know if you think I should continue.

_Air Vents and Baseball Caps_

The next day, all of the Penderwicks were downstairs, where Mr. Penderwick and Rosalind were making chocolate chip and blueberry pancakes for everyone. It was scene of perfect chaos. Hound had stolen an entire stack of Ben's pancakes, and Batty and Ben were both chasing him under the table and around the chairs. Jane was laughing, standing on her chair and pointing her pencil at Hound shouting spells and hexes at him. Skye was either too absorbs in her math to notice all of this or ignoring them all, the later the most probable of these two, because she was rolling her eyes.

Iantha came into the kitchen just in time witness the end of the ruckus, when Mr. Penderwick managed to grab Hound by the collar. "Be still demon dog," he commanded, a pan of sizzling pancakes still in the other hand. Hound obediently sat, but the pancakes were long since down the hatch, and he sat licking the spilt syrup off his nose. Mr. Penderwick looked up triumphantly and all the girls (and Ben) cheered. Iantha smiled fondly and slid into a seat next to Skye, who looked up briefly to smile at her. Rosalind set a plate of hot pancakes in front of her, and Iantha smiled as Batty and Ben took it upon themselves to smother them in syrup. Perfect chaos.

"So what is on the agenda?" asked Skye, once the whole family had gotten pancakes and had been hushed by the food.

"Soccer," mumbled Jane though a mouthful of pancakes.

"Decorating?" offered Iantha. That got a round of cheers from the younger ones. But Rosalind remained silent, stating at her stack of pancakes, and Skye remained silent staring at Rosalind. Mr. Penderwick looked at each of them carefully. "Skye? What do you say to that?" Rosalind looked up and met Skye's eyes across the table and gave her a tiny nod.

"Ok," Skye said finally. Rosalind nodded when Mr. Penderwicks looked at her as well.

Then the doorbell rang, a happy little bells that sounded a little out of place at the suddenly quiet table.

"I'll get it," Rosalind said, escaping from everyone for a moment. She pulled the door open expecting to find Jeffrey in search of Skye (as he seemed to always be) but instead found herself face to face with a tall boy with a Red Sox baseball cap, pulled down over curly hair.

"Cagney!" she said startled. Back in the kitchen, Tommy bristled and the bite of his fifth pancake froze on the way to his mouth.

"Rosy!" he said. "Just the person I was hoping to see!" He stepped forward and pulled her into a friendly hug. Jane and Skye jumped up to say their hellos to their favorite gardener, and Tommy did too, though he didn't look half as excited.

"Jane," he said, giving her a hug. "Skye!" He was going to give her a hug as well, until he remembered that this was not in Skye's nature and he instead extended his hand. She shook it, grinning widely. He straightened up then, to find himself right in front of Tommy. He offered a hand, in a friendly sort of way, which Tommy took, though a bit roughly.

"I don't think we have met before," said Cagney, his easy going smile killing Tommy.

"This is my boyfriend, Tommy," Rosalind cut in.

Tommy was hoping that this kid, Cagney, would at least stiffen at the word _boyfriend_, but he didn't even bat an eye. "Pleasure," Cagney said. _I am sure it is _thought Tommy.

"Cagney!" Batty came pushing past Tommy to throw herself into his arms.

"Is this…? Can't be Batty, can it?" Cagney said dramatically.

"It's me Cagney!" she squealed. "What is this?" she asked, peering around his shoulder. Behind him there was a tree, a Christmas tree.

"Well I heard you all were coming, and I thought you might need some Christmas decorations around this place," he said.

"Thank you," said Rosalind, smiling.

"Do you want me to bring it in?" he asked.

"I can get it," Tommy said. He puffed out his chest.

Cagney though, still did not seem to pick up on the tightness in his voice, and just nodded, a lopsided grin still on his face. Rosalind sure did though, and was shooting daggers at Tommy with her eyes.

Skye, sensing tension, grabbed Jane's hand and pulled her toward the door. "Let's go find Jeffrey," she mumbled. Batty chased after them.

* * *

The three sisters ran out into the cold snow, which crunched beneath their boots. The sky was blue today, and the sun shimmered on the snow, making it a blinding white.

"Did anyone feel the tension in there?" Skye asked.

"You could cut it with a knife," Jane said with a nod.

"Though so," Skye said. She wasn't the greatest at deciphering other people's emotions, but Tommy's misplaced hatred for Cagney was so obvious, it was like a slap to face. And a slap in the face might be exactly where that confrontation was heading; though Skye wasn't sure who would be slapping who in that instance. Tommy slapping Cagney for his attention he gave to Rosalind, Rosalind slapping Tommy for being a child… it could end so many terrible ways.

Skye, Jane and Batty were headed to a much calmer kitchen, tucked in the underbellies of Arundel, where Churchie was sure to be. Skye skirted around the drive way and rounded the far corner of the mansion, where there was the little wooden door. Skye found it to be a little stuck from all the snow, but she threw a hard shoulder into it, and with a shudder, it swung in. The three sisters stumbled into the warm kitchen and a stout woman with red cheeks poked her head out of the cellar door.

"Ah the Penderwicks!" she hurried towards them, eloping them all in a big hug. Skye thought for sure she was going to pass out, when Churchie finally released them, holding them all out at arm's length so that she might be able to look at their faces.

"You are all so beautiful! A bit peeky maybe, but we can fix that. I have gingerbread warming in the oven, dears. Sit, sit!"

"Of course!" said Jane.

"But we are looking for Jeffrey ma'am," Skye cut in. She didn't say ma'am to many people, but she adored Churchie so she made an exception.

"Oh he will be down soon, darling. He is a growing teenage boy; they don't miss a meal for anything," she said. Skye grinned and sat down in the little breakfast nook next to Jane. The little kitchen was small, the walls made of stone and the floors of hardwood, like it was something out of a storybook. It had two big potbellied stoves, and all sorts of big brass pots hanging from the ceiling that caught in morning sun and tossed it around the room. It wasn't long before Churchie had plate full of thick slices of gingerbread set in front of them.

"A hot drink maybe?" she asked.

"May I please have a cup of coffee?" asked Skye. Churchie raised her eyebrows.

"Skye likes coffee because she has to stay up really late studying some nights because she takes really hard math and science classes," Jane explained.

Churchie smiled, patting Skye's cheek before bustling away to make her a coffee. "You going to be a doctor or something?"

"An astrophysicist," Skye said.

Suddenly, Jeffrey came stumbling into the kitchen, half-asleep and still in his pajamas.

"A rocket scientist, basically," he said, with a sleepy smile and a groggy voice.

"Absolutely not! There are some massive differences!' Skye said indignantly.

"Good morning, Skye," Jeffrey said, cutting her off before she could launch into a complete list of the differences between and astrophysicist and a rocket scientist.

He threw an arm playfully around Churchie in a side hug before he slyly slipped a hot slice of gingerbread from the pan and took a big bite. She lovingly scolded him. Skye marveled at how much taller he was than Churchie now. He still had that same goofy smile though.

"Right then," Churchie said. "You kids better run along before your mother catches you. She has been in a bit of a mood with all of this stress that comes with all the planning for the party."

"Party?" Jane asked excitedly.

Jeffrey rolled his eyes and gave Skye a pointed look. "My mother is _simply insistent_ upon throwing a Christmas party for every person she has ever met in her entire life. Seems pointless really, throwing a party with people you barely know," he said, his exasperation written clearly on his face. But while his lack of enthusiasm translated well to Skye, it was simply lost on Jane, who was still caught up in the whole idea.

"It will be like the Great Gatsby!" she said, breathlessly and in a poorly executed 1920s accent. She dramatically placed one hand over her heart and fanned herself with another for emphasis. Skye was groaning, almost at the point of physical pain just watching Jane's histrionic nature on full display.

Jeffrey was laughing, watching the exchange between the sisters like he was watching some soap opera.

"Would you like to take a peek at the party preparations?" he asked. Normally Skye would have protested getting caught up in Jane's enthusiasm for the party that Jeffrey so obviously loathed, but something about the way his eyes gleamed when he asked caught her attention. It was a look that promised adventure and trouble. It was Skye's favorite look.

And sure enough, Jeffrey's next words were, "It is going to take a bit of sneaking around…"

And it did indeed.

The four friends first slipped out of the kitchen into the large main floor of the house, which never failed to take the girl's breath away. The ceiling was soaring, tapestries hung elegantly from the walls and all the floors and heavy furniture were of an expensive mahogany. The main hall was open, with several rooms branching away from this, leading to the family room, the library (which Jane longed to get her hands on but had yet to get a chance) and the very end of the hall, big double doors that lead to the drawing room.

Skye could not, for the life her, figure out why it was called this, because aside from a the arching ceiling, marble floors, grand piano and massive windows that looked out over the gardens, there was not much else in the room…certainly not many places to sit and _draw_. But Skye chose to not ask Jane the reasoning for the name, opting out of what would surely be a long speech about the history of the _drawing room_.

Jeffrey nodded in the direction of these double doors, which Jane was quick to try, only to find them locked. Jeffrey shook his head and then nodded to the spiral staircase. The girls were confused, but they followed.

Once they had reached the second floor, Jeffrey lead them away, down a narrow hall way. He bent down in front of an air vent and quickly began removing screws that someone (presumable Jeffrey) had loosened before.

Skye crouched down next to him. "What are we doing?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

He looked up, light dancing in his eyes. "Snooping."

He pulled the grate away, revealing an air duct that was plenty big for a person to crawl through.

Skye looked in and groaned. "Why in the blazes does this old house have central air conditioning anyway?" she asked, mostly to postpone having to climb into the dark little tunnel that was looking quite unappealing with it's dark, gaping mouth and spider webs clinging to the dark corners. It wasn't that Skye was afraid of course, she just was not exactly looking forward to the experience. Jeffrey just shrugged.

"After you," he said.

"Why me?"

"You are the fearless one, remember?" She rolled her eyes, but around half way through their roll, her green met his blue. And she froze looking up at him, an unfamiliar sensation in her stomach, that she found that she liked because it felt something like winning a soccer game and that she didn't because it felt something like losing control. And not like the kind of losing control when she lost her temper, or because so absorbed in math it was like she had become the equations on the page, but a little more like handing the keys to your heart over to someone else. Or something like that. Skye stopped her own mushy thought by plunging head first into the tunnel, which seemed much more appealing now that it served as a way to escape his bright eyes.

Jane climbed in awkwardly behind her, and Jeffrey slid in last, propping the grate up against the opening to conceal it.

"Jeffrey, where are we going?" she said irritably, as she stubbornly ignored her still knotted stomach.

"Just go straight until you see light," he said from behind her, his voice echoing off the metal walls of the air vent.

"I can't see anything," she grumbled. "Heck, I can't see which way this dumb things leads!" This was obviously not entirely true though, as Skye proceeded to crawl down the metal tube, grumbling all the way.

A square of light appeared before them on the floor of the vent in no time, and Skye peeked though it to find herself seeing an aerial view of the drawing room. Skye stumbled back away from it, though not for the reason's one might think. No, she stumbled back because Jeffrey had crawled up next to her as she reached the opening and placed a hand on her back, as if to keep her from falling straight through the metal vent (however unlikely). Skye who had already been so unnerved from her strange rush of feelings after their stare down outside of the vent, jumped away from him like his touch burned.

"You ok?" he asked.

"Fine," Skye said, bitterly, like the weird feeling in her stomach was something he had done. It _was_ something he had done, but he hadn't meant to, or rather, he couldn't help it (though Skye of course did not know this, and frankly, neither did he). He looked at her questioningly though, and desperate to keep his blue eyes away from her, lest they result in the confusing emotional onslaught as they did before, Skye improvised. "I am afraid of heights."

Jeffrey knew better, but let it go.

"Look," he said pointing, and Skye did, really looked this time. The drawing room was dressed exquisitely, in deep reds and emerald greens, and in the center was the most massive Christmas tree she had ever seen.

"Jiminy Cricket," Jane breather over she shoulder as she craned to get a peek. "Jeffrey, this is a party fit for kings."

Jeffrey laughed. "It is bound to be some Victorian form of torture. Mother says it will be _delightfully entertaining_," Jeffrey drew out his words the way his mother did, and Skye laughed; only to have her laughter cut off quickly by Jane who slapped a hand over her mouth. Skye realized why a second later when the unmistakable voice of none other than Mrs. Tiffin herself, floated up through the vent.

They could hear her high heels clicking on the marble floor. "Oh Dexter," she said, to an unseen Dexter Dupree who was apparently in the room as well. "Isn't it going to be delightful?"

Jeffrey was grinning. "See?" he mouthed, making the girls laugh (silently) before the scuttled out of the vent as quickly as possible.

* * *

"Thank you again, Cagney," Rosalind said. "It really means a lot."

Tommy nodded. "Right then, come on Rosy."

He was still staring at Cagney like he was his lunch. Rosalind made a quick an uncharacteristic decision that was rather brash and very Skye-like. "Actually, if it is ok with you," she said a touch of sarcasm edging into her voice, "I am going to talk to Cagney for a while."

There was a pause, when Tommy just stood there, gapping at her. Then his mouth grew into a perfectly straight line. "Right. Of course," he said, and he turned around and went back into the house, leaving Rosalind with Cagney.

Her cheeks were burning with anger and embarrassment. Oh she wished he wouldn't act that way around Cagney.

"I am sorry about him," she said, leaning up against the closed door looking exhausted.

Cagney just smiled and sank down onto the front steps, motioning her to join him. Rosalind sighed and did just that.

:He seems like he is a good guy," he said. Rosalind rolled her eyes.

"He is acting like a child," she said.

Cagney shook his head, making his auburn curls fall onto his forehead. "I can see that he care about you Rosalind. He is just scared to lose you."

"Maybe," She paused and looked at him sidelong, she could see that he meant it. Rosalind decided that she ought to change the subject. "How are you, Cagney?" she asked.

He smiled that easy smile he always had. "I am doing really well. I am studying history over at Boston College."

Rosalind suddenly started feeling very young and very foolish. She had completely forgotten that he was so much older, surely he was twenty-two or twenty-three by now, and why on earth would he want to talk to her about her troubles with her eighteen year old boyfriend!?

"What about you, what are your college plans?" he asked, bringing her back from her thoughts.

"University of Virginia," she said finally brushing her thoughts away.

He raised his eyebrows. "Impressive."

She thanked him and they exchanged a few more bits of small talk, before Cagney announced that he must be headed home.

"Are you sure?" Rosalind asked, standing up as he did, surprised by the abruptness of his leaving.

"Rosy you seem distracted. I think you ought to get back to him," he said nodding toward the house.

"I am sorry Cagney! I didn't mean to seem-" Cagney cut her off with a friendly kiss on the cheek. Rosalind wondered over how just a few years ago this would have gotten her all in a dither; stomach filled with butterflies, heart racing. Today it just seemed comfortable. A friendship.

"Make sure he treats you right, Rosy," he said before he turned around and walked back into the snow.


	3. Growing Together

**Hey so, your response was better than I could have hoped! I will surely continue with this one if you guys will stay with me on it. I am sorry for all of my little grammar mistakes, especially on that last one. I didn't realize there were so many until I posted it, and I don't know how to go back and fix them because I am new at this. Maybe one of you lovely folks will tell me how? Anyway here is the next chapter. I am unfortunately not particularly fond of it, it wasn't supposed to be just Skye and Jeffrey for most of the chapter because I want this story to be about family and more than just Skyffrey, but I got carried away. I don't know, tell me what you guys think. I have found that a detailed review makes me uncontrollably happy :) I think that if this goes as planned, it should be right around ten chapters total, with updates as soon as I can and have the inspiration (However, I have midterms coming up so I can make no promises). Thank you guys for the support! If you don't mind I am going to thank you personally even if it is a little long, because I love it when writers do this.**

**Pseudonymperson: Thank you for the well thought out review… it means the world to me. I love your stories and your style of writing, so to get praise from you was really exciting (and I love your new story!).**

**PartCat77: Here is your before Christmas update! Unfortunately, I don't think that Dexter is going to be hanging out near the pond anytime soon :( HOWEVER, I promise that Jane will get a bit of revenge on him later in the story!**

**Applesandbananas: Yep! I am Jane. I was super excited to get a review from you, because your reviews are always some of the best, and they are always very informative. Thanks! I am glad I am doing alright with my characterization-keep giving me pointers?**

**PenderwickFan101: Wow I love the enthusiasm :) I love Skye and Jeffrey too, so I am glad you like the way I write them! And I am so excited for Christmas… I just had to do it!**

**Awsedrf: I am glad you like it (I do too :D) **

**lsc01: You said you were anticipating this forever… did you mean that you were anticipating me writing a story forever? Cause that is totally cool, it makes me feel loved! **

**Susan: Yay some actual constructive criticism! I think that this is very good advice. However, I don't think that another girl isn't going to be quite so easy to work into this story. Instead of having another girl worked in here to interfere with Jeffrey and Skye, I think that Skye is going to interfere all on her own, her own stubbornness creating some issues between the two. I love the idea though and I might work it into another story, so thank you so much! I hope you can stick with me on this one, cause I would love some more pointers.**

**And to all my guests, thank you. That you guys take the time to read my stuff and review it means more than you can imagine.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Penderwicks (in this chapter or the last, where I forgot to put a disclaimer… oops!)**

Growing Together

The next morning, Skye woke up to clatter against her window shudder. She sat up in bed blinking to try to get her eyes to adjust. It was still dark outside. She squinted at her clock on the side table and to her disgust, it read 5:38.

"Great gravy," she mumbled, rolling out of bed and kneeling at the window. She found exactly who she expected to find, Jeffrey, looking exactly how she had expected him to look, stupid. He was standing under her window, and even pixilated by the weave of her window screen and smudged by the darkness outside, Skye could still tell that he was wearing a big stupid smile. It was infectious.

With the corners of her mouth turning reluctantly up, Skye looked around the room, looking for a projectile to show her disapproval of being woken up this early. Unfortunately for Jeffrey, the first thing Skye found was Rosalind's Latin book, a terrifying thick volume that she insisted upon learning, for who-knows-why (definitely not Skye). Skye took the book from a still sleeping Rosalind's side table, removed the screen from her window and promptly tossed the book at the stupidly smiling boy below. Then she pulled on some clothes and ran downstairs to join him. Skye found that she had failed to wipe the smile off his face, and if anything, she made it bigger.

"You missed," he said brightly, as she ran out into the snow to greet him with a half-hearted scowl that hid a smile.

"I wasn't aiming," Skye said defensively, then she crossed her arms in a great show of disapproval. "Why in the world are we up this early?" she asked.

"We are up this early because you like spending time with me, whether you will admit it or not…"

Skye cut him off. "Not."

Jeffrey forged on. "…and I have something to show you."

With that, there was a change in Jeffrey's demeanor. It was subtle, and had Skye not known him for so long she would have surely missed it, but there was a change none the less. Something in the way his jaw tightened and forehead creased told Skye that there was something that wasn't right.

"What is it?" she asked, forgetting to pretend to disprove of his early wakeup call as her voice filled with worry.

His forehead smoothed out and Jeffrey smiled brightly, the look from before gone again.

"I have something to _show_ you Skye, not _tell_ you," he said, and with that he turned and headed back for Arundel. Skye jogged to catch up with him and his impossibly long stride.

"Can you at least give me a hint as to what we are doing?" she asked, curiosity getting in the way of her better judgment to leave whatever it was that was bothering him alone.

He looked down at her. "It is going to involve some snooping around," he said, mimicking their conversation from yesterday with a big smile on his face. Skye couldn't be sure, but it looked forced.

They slipped into the mansion through the kitchen once again, which was empty so early in the morning. Jeffrey lead Skye into the main hall and then up the spiral stair case. But instead of getting off on the second floor where the opening to the air duct was, or the third floor, where Jeffrey's room was, or even the fourth floor, Jeffrey lead her all the way up to where the sweeping staircase narrowed and led to the attic. Jeffrey held a finger to his lips, letting Skye know that this was somewhere they were not supposed to be right now. Not that she minded of course.

The door to the attic was small, and creaked when Jeffrey opened it. They both cringed and waited for a tense moment when they were sure Mrs. Tifton would come running to catch them both, their minds reeling as they considered all of the types of punishment Mrs. Tifton could inflict (Skye's thoughts went immediately to things like Chinese water torture and Jeffrey panicked over the possibly of getting his music practicing privileges suspended). When no such thing came however, they went on inside.

It was terribly hard to see in the pale morning light, but Skye could tell that they were in a massive, open room. Jeffrey flicked a light switch in the corner and a handful of bare light bulbs hanging from wires from the ceiling came on. They made pools of yellow light on the creaky wood floor and casted shadows about the middle of the room, but left the corners of the room in creepy shadows.

"Jeffrey?" she asked. He had gone still next to her, staring intensely at an old trunk in the middle of the floor, sitting in one of these pools of light like it was standing in a spotlight.

He nodded his head in the direction of the trunk. "Open it." There was no doubt about it, his voice was tight with unmistakable pain.

Skye approached the trunk like it was full of snakes or skeletons that were going to pop out at her. For all she knew, it was. It was heavy, but when she opened it, she didn't find snakes or skeletons at all. Instead, she found men's sweaters, piles of sheet music, old records, and other things covered in a thin film of dust.

Jeffrey was still rooted in his place by the door, looking like he had seen a ghost. Skye gingerly picked up a picture frame that was lying on top of the pile of think cable knit sweaters and after considerable blowing on it to get rid of the dust, she realized why Jeffrey was acting to strange. The old photograph was black in white and fading on the edges, but the happy young couple kissing in the center was unmistakably Mrs. Tifton and Alec. Skye slowly put the pieces together, men's sweaters and sheet music… it was a trunk full of Alec's things.

She felt, rather than saw, Jeffrey come and join her in kneeling in front of the trunk.

"Why would she keep this?" Skye asked. Jeffrey bobbed his shoulders, staring into the opened trunk but not daring to touch any of the things inside.

"Have you already looked through this?" Skye asked. Jeffrey just shook his head. He seemed to have gone mute. Or spontaneously decided to become a mime. Or-

"Will you go through it with me?"

"Yeah," Skye said, as gently as she knew how.

They went though it systematically, and silently. They started by brushing the dust of the top, sending little bits of the wispy stuff floating in the cold, grey morning air. Then they began inspecting each item, working their way through each layer of things. The top layer was mostly sweaters. Jeffrey slipped one on, after some gentle convincing on Skye's part (as gently as Skye knew how). It was big on him, but in a good way, and it made him look shockingly like his father. He looked older… tired. Or course, this could very well be because it still not yet 6:00 in the morning.

Then they got to the tall stacks of sheet music, many of which were handwritten by Alec. The tall stacks of vinyl records were mostly piano solos and saxophone and clarinet pieces and then, surprisingly, a handful of James Taylor records. Jeffrey read several piano pieces the same way one might read a letter from a loved one or a good book. He folded a few up and slid them in his pocket. Skye didn't question him about it.

They got to the bottom, where there was a wooden box with a little brown latch asking to be opened. "You do it," Jeffrey said. Skye found it to contain several polaroid pictures. There were pictures of Alec and Mrs. Tifton on their wedding day, pictures of them dancing at some fancy ball, pictures of them both smiling and waving on the very steps of Arundel. They looked… happy.

Jeffrey stood up suddenly, and walked over to the window, covering his face with his hands. Skye stood up nervously and followed him, hoping he was ok, because she was so awful and comforting people. The first few rays of morning sun were coming through the window now, so Jeffrey was just a silhouette, his disheveled hair a halo around his head.

She stood next to him, and when he didn't look up she put a hand awkwardly on his shoulder, hoping that it seemed comforting. She figured she was doing ok, as he hadn't started sobbing or anything yet, but she didn't say anything because she didn't want to mess up her good work so far. Suddenly, Jeffrey grabbed her wrist and pulled her against him, burying his face in her hair.

Skye was caught massively off guard. Like the day before outside of the air duct Skye felt something very big in her chest. She was suddenly afraid to relax against him, because if she did, he might feel her heart hammering against her chest and jumping through her shirt, and suddenly she was afraid to breathe because she might inhale the smell of him (which had always been the smell of cedar wood and cinnamon). But mostly, Skye was afraid to look up at him because one of the only things in the world that was sure to make her cry, was him crying, and she could hear the small sobs that were muffled by her hair. So Skye kept her face pressed against his chest, her arms around him a way that meant minimal touching, and she held her breath. The sun broke over the horizon then, bursting through the window and casting a soft golden glow over everything. The sunlight caught the little dust particles that had yet to settle and the air seemed to shimmer around them. When Jeffrey finally drew away from her, his eyes were red but not wet, and Skye was relieved.

"Look what we could have had, Skye," Jeffrey said, waving at the trunk again.

Skye looked at a trunk that had the remnants of what was a happy family. With a dad that loved a mom and a mom that loved a dad and a son that could have had it all. It was everything that Jeffrey had ever wanted. And even though he found Alec, and even though he adored Alec and Alec adored him and they did their best to see each other as much as possible to make up lost time… it wasn't the same, it wasn't enough. And Jeffrey was done pretending that it was.

"He walked away, Skye," he said. Skye realized that his hands were trembling as he desperately tried to pull his cell phone out of his pocket. Skye reached out and took both of his trembling hands in hers, stopping him before he could do something stupid, like call Alec with an angry litany of frantic curses and grievances. "He left us," Jeffrey whimpered, almost begging her now as if she could turn back time and make things right.

"Jeffrey, you have to be logical about this," Skye said. "We don't really know the whole story…"

"I am being perfectly logical! What more is there to know? He left!"

"Fine, he left!" Skye said, because she had never been one to be gentle and certainly was never one to sugar coat things. "Can we just accept that love is dumb and go play soccer now?" Skye was getting desperate to get out of the conversation at hand.

Jeffrey looked at her, his anger slowly and visibly dissipating until it was finally replaced with a small, fond smile. "That's my Skye," he said, a teasing edge in his voice. "Forever alone."

Skye jerked her hands out of his, laughing, and then she thrust her palms into his chest sending him reeling backward into another trunk, this one already open and full of clothing accessories, like hats and scarves and shawls and all sorts of other things that Skye couldn't name.

Jeffrey pulled himself back up, also laughing, with all sorts of accessories clinging to him, like the scarf that was hanging over his shoulder and the handbag that got looped around his ankle. He looked at her, mischievously, and he grabbed an armload of hat and scarves before chasing after her. Skye shrieked and crashed through the racks of clothes that were like a maze in the huge room, making row upon row of old dresses and suits and coats. Skye ran down one of the rows, holding her hand out to brush her fingertips over the dresses as she ran. She rounded the corner to the next row hoping to loose Jeffrey, but instead ran smack into him. He was laughing and wearing a coat from one of the racks and a top hat from the trunk.

Skye tried to pull away and run the opposite direction, but Jeffrey caught her arm and pulled her back to him, looping a feather boa around her neck in revenge. Skye was laughing and Jeffrey's eyes were twinkling with mischief when they heard footsteps in the staircase.

The mischief his eyes was quickly replaced with terror. Jeffrey grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door. They both stood, frozen with fear at the door jamb as they watched Mrs. Tifton's tall, elegant silhouette sweeping up the stairs. Skye turned and lunged for the trunk, quickly shoving things back in and slamming the lid closed before Jeffrey could grab her and pull her behind the door. They hit the light switch and then stood in the dark corner holding their breaths.

"Jeffrey!?" Mrs. Tifton's shrill voice pierced the room and her heels clicked on the floor as she marched into the attic. Jeffrey and Skye's eyes went wide as Mrs. Tifton's flicked the lights back on and scanned the room, landing finally on a picture of her and Alec that Skye had overlooked in her desperate attempt to return Alec's stuff to the trunk. Mrs. Tifton picked it up carefully, her whole demeanor changing dramatically. Her eyes softened and a small smile found its way onto her lips. She was entranced for a moment, and then she seemed to notice all of the hats and scarves and things strewn around. She stalked off, deeper into the cavernous room and behind some of the rows of clothing, calling Jeffrey's name again.

As soon as she disappeared from sight Jeffrey pulled Skye out from behind the door and to the stairs which they took two at a time before finally stopping at the second floor, where Jeffrey quickly ushered Skye into the air duct once more. There they caught their breath finally, their panting echoing in funny ways off of the metal walls of the chute. Then there was Mrs. Tifton's voice again coming from somewhere in the halls of the second floor.

"Crawl," Jeffrey commanded.

"But it doesn't let out this way…" Skye protested.

"Skye, trust me. Crawl," he said again.

Skye crawled. She crawled quickly and quietly with Jeffrey hot on her heels. He noted the way she fearlessly crawled over the grate the overlooked the drawing room and didn't seem to even flinch at the height, but he didn't say anything.

"Arg!" Skye cried, suddenly sliding forward on all fours down the air duct which was slopping precariously downward. She struggled to find purchase on the slick metal floor but found none. Skye was sliding even faster now and in the dark she could just make out what appeared to be a wall at the end of the chute. She braced herself for impact. But when she did hit the metal wall, it gave way easily. Skye burst in to the daylight and found herself tumbling into a snowdrift face first, muttering ungentlemanly things at the air duct and the snow and the green-eyed boy that somehow managed to land on his feet beside her.

"Graceful," Jeffrey said, smiling as he hauled Skye to her feet.

Skye rolled her eyes and they set off for the safety of the cottage. "You could have told me it was going to go from regular old air shaft to an indoor slide!" she retorted, but there wasn't much venom behind her words.

The morning was even colder than the last, and Skye could see her breath in the morning sun. She gathered up a handful of snow into a tightly packed ball and tossed from hand to hand as they walked. There were taking the long way around, because it offered a shelter from the windows of Arundel that Mrs. Tifton would surely be patrolling like a hawk. It required going all the way around the hedge though and was a bit of a walk. There was a dirt path back there, running along the perimeter of the hedge (though it was covered in a dusting of white snow at the moment) and was traveled mostly by Cagney. It was pretty really, wide and covered by big trees that hung over the path, their low branches heavy with snow.

"I don't think love is dumb by the way," Jeffrey said suddenly as they ducked under the hedge onto the path.

Skye looked at him like crazy and the next moment, Jeffrey got a face full of snowball. He shook his head to shake off the cold snow that had exploded on his cheek and dusted his whole face in a soft white powder. "Skye!" he yelled, laughing and tearing after her as she sprinted off down the path.

He caught her after a brief chase (it was that stupid long leg advantage!) and grabbed her with one arm around her middle. Skye shrieked and Jeffrey attacked with snow by shaking the branches of the low over hanging trees above them. The trees dumped snow on both of them, so Jeffrey had to share the consequences of his own revenge, but it was worth it. Skye pulled away from him, still laughing but attempting to scowl at the same time as she brushed snow off of her before it could slip uncomfortably into her collar.

Jeffrey jogged to her side again and they resumed the more civilized walk to the cottage.

"I mean it though," Jeffrey said. "I know the snowball was an attempt to avoid this conversation, but we are going to have it anyway."

Skye sighed, turning his sentence over in her mind for a moment before she answered him. "Really?" she asked finally. "You believe in love after see that? After seeing all the heartbreak in that trunk? After living your whole life dealing with the consequences of a failed teenage romance?"

"Yes," Jeffrey said, confidently, like a dare. Like he was daring Skye to question him. Skye had never been one to back down from a dare.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I think that love deserves our faith," he said, more careful in this response. "I think we are a product of love; myself a product of a brief and tragic love affair, you a product of one of the rarest forms of true love… we exist because of it. It makes beautiful things happen all over the world; first kisses, last kisses, long hugs, deep conversations, a look that touches someone more that any physical impact… So I think that we at least owe it our faith."

Skye was looking like she might throw up. Ironically though, she reached over and felt Jeffrey's forehead for a fever. "You are talking crazy. Perhaps you caught this crazy sickness from Jane. She has a particularly severe case of it. You ought to stop spending so much time hanging around her," Skye said quickly, trying desperately to end the conversation. It was far too sappy for her taste.

"Skye," he said her name softly, like a prayer. And unfortunately for Skye, they had reached the porch of the cottage, so there was nowhere else for her to go.

She turned around and faced him, suddenly scared to death but certainly not about to show it. "Love is dumb, Jeffrey," she said, in a last ditch effort to try and convince him and herself (her usually strong-as-steel resolve was wavering). "Love breaks. It falls apart. It fades. It leaves and sometimes it doesn't come back. Sometimes it just leaves a dad and four girls broken hearted…" Skye swallowed hard, struggling suddenly to catch her breath. She had told Jeffrey something she had never meant to; something she hadn't ever told a soul, not even herself really. Skye, fearless Skye, was terrified of _love._ Not heights, not deep water, not the dark, not bulls, or boys on skateboards, or even the terrible Mrs. Tifton herself… but love.

Before Jeffrey could say anything, Skye turned and burst into the safety of the warm cottage. What she walked in on though, was not the cozy haven that she intended on saving her from Jeffrey's concerned eyes… it was chaos.

Hound was lying right in front of the door chewing on…well who knows what… Skye stepped over him to get inside, where it seemed as though Hobby Lobby had puked the arts and crafts aisle over everything. There were paper chains hanging off of everything, glitter that appeared to have exploded out of a canon, and puddles of glue on the floor that made Skye's trekking boots make a suckering sound every time she took a step. Batty attacked Jeffrey with art projects spilling out of her arms, forcing him to tear his eyes away from Skye.

"Jeffrey! We are making homemade ornaments to put on the tree that Cagney brought us because we forgot to bring our own. See?" Batty proceeded show him every one of her ornaments, each more gluey and glittery than the last.

Skye dove into the fray, scooping Ben out of a pile of construction paper and markers. She plopped the protesting Ben into an actual chair, wiping the markers smudges off of his forehead with her thumb. Jane was sitting at the head of the table oblivious to all the chaos, her tongue stuck out one side of her mouth as she worked on one of her own "homemade ornaments." Skye was fuming.

"Where is Rosalind? And Daddy and Iantha?" she demanded.

"Daddy and Iantha when to Harry's to pick up some poinsettias. Rosalind's upstairs," Jane said, not looking up. She had her signature dreamy look that she got every time she started working on an artsy project. Skye groaned audibly.

"Is she ok?" Skye asked, referring to Rosalind. She gave Tommy a pointed look here that said _what-did-you-do-to-my-sister-you-goon _quite clearly, which was impressive because it was a lot of words to translate via glare. Tommy looked as though he was going through enough already though, as he was sitting slumped in his chair with a look on his face that told Skye that Rosalind had already taken care of him.

"Hmmm?" hummed Jane, who was obviously not listening.

Skye spun around and marched upstairs to find Rosalind. She left Jeffrey alone in the hectic kitchen to settle the mess, feeling a twinge of guilt because it felt something akin to leaving a man behind in battle, but it was short-lived.

The door to her and Rosalind room was cracked open, and Skye stuck her head in. Rosalind was laying on the bed despondently.

"Should I kill Tommy?" Skye asked, only half joking.

Rosalind looked up and gave Skye a small smile. "It's not Tommy, I took care of him."

"So? What is it? It's not like you to leave those kids to their own devices. Which is a good thing by the way…"

"Skye, I think you know why. I just can't handle all of the decorating," Rosalind said in a small voice.

Skye sighed. She did know why. "Rosalind, I miss her too. But Mom loved Christmas more than anything and she loved decorating-"

Rosalind cut Skye off. "And that's why I can't bring myself to do it Skye, after all these years."

"It is what she would have wanted, Rosy," said Skye, softly.

Rosalind looked at Skye for a long moment. Skye looked older now and so much like their mother. She was beautiful really, all long slender limbs and gold hair, though Skye didn't know it and denied it anytime someone tried to tell her this. Aside from her family, Skye had several suitors in her grade that reminded her constantly of her beauty, but unfortunately for them, this meant nothing to Skye, who would rather be complimented on her brains or soccer skills any day. She was always quick to brush them off.

But even now, standing at the door with her fingers smudged with marker and glitter clinging to her hair (for a reason unknown to Rosalind) Skye was beautiful, and there was a steely look in her eyes that was unmistakably their mother's. It was the look that made Rosalind roll out of bed and join her to go and straighten out the mess that was a Penderwick Christmas downstairs.


	4. Not Our Mother

Chapter Four

Not Our Mother

**Guys my interest in the story is waning. I am going to need some drastic support to keep at this thing. Here is your next chapter though. It's not my best and it's pretty short. There are some good moments though. Tell me what you think. This is mostly dealing with some family issues because I always wished that the books would give us more conflict dealing with the sister's grief over their mother and more conflict between the girls and Iantha. Speaking of the books, can anyone give me some info about them!? I saw on her website the fourth comes out in 2015? Anyway thank you guys for the support!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Penderwicks. I also (almost unintentionally) stuck a Harry Potter quote in there. Oops. It's brief, not exactly word for word, but I though should mention it. I don't own that either :(**

All of the Penderwicks siblings were cuddled around the little kitchen table now, making ornaments for the Christmas tree. Jeffrey was there too of course, tickling Jane in a playful attempt to break her focus on the ornament she was bent over. Tommy was there as well, sulking on the side of the table opposite of Rosalind. Rosalind was busy ignoring him, wedged in between Batty and Ben, attempting to help them both simultaneously with their crafts. Skye sat in the midst of all of it, dodging glitter and glue and making a lousy half-hearted attempt at her own ornament.

Daddy and Iantha hurried through the door then, followed by a blustering wind that they quickly slammed the door against. There was a great deal of talking all at once, and Batty leapt up to show Iantha all of her ornaments, much like she had when Jeffrey and Skye returned. Iantha swept her up in her arms, which were already quite full of poinsettias, laughing and showering Batty with kisses. Mr. Penderwick gently took some of the dark red flowers carefully from Iantha's arms, dropping a quick kiss on her forehead.

Skye was watching all of this, but her main focus was Rosalind's reaction to all of it. Rosalind always carried herself with grace; her anger with grace, her joy with grace, even her grief with grace. But there was something about the holidays that overwhelmed her.

Skye guessed it was the memories from before. The way Daddy used to kiss their mother like the way he just kissed Iantha, the way her mother used to swoon over poinsettias like Iantha was… it bothered Skye too, it did. But it really hurt Rosalind.

"Batty, do you want to make cookies?" Iantha asked. Batty squealed.

"What kind?"

"Peanut butter kisses," Batty cried, scrambling out of her arms to run to the kitchen and get started. Skye and Rosalind both tensed. Of all the cookies…

Ben and Jane both jumped up to help. Tommy followed, mostly to avoid Rosalind and Skye followed too, when Jeffrey dragged her out of her chair. She felt as though she was betraying Rosalind in a way, but Jeffrey was laughing in her ear and Iantha was calling her over, so she went smiling. Rosalind stayed rooted to the table.

The cookie making went as you might guess, happily, but not cleanly by any standard. Batty and Iantha were trying to teach Ben how to crack eggs, which he just couldn't seem to get a handle on. At cracking them, he was fabulous; he could smash those things like a pro. When it came to getting them into the bowl without the shells, however, he had a little more difficulty.

Jane was stirring, too quickly of course, and bits of batter were going everywhere. Tommy was scooping peanut butter into the bowl as Hound barked at him, hoping to convince Tommy to slide him a scoop. Hound _loved_ peanut butter. Skye and Jeffrey were on flour duty. Jeffrey dumped their carefully measured flour into the bowl too quickly, and a little white cloud exploded out of the bowl, right into Skye's face. What ensued was a flour fight. Mr. Penderwick looked lovingly on.

Skye and Jeffrey were at the sink trying to clean off all of the flour, when Skye noticed a look on Rosalind's face that she actually could recognize well. It was fragile and sad; a look reserved for all of the quiet moments she spent thinking of their mother.

"Skye, wait you still have flour on your nose!" Jeffrey said, reaching to brush it off. She swatted him away gently, and made her way to the dining room table. She slid into a chair next to Rosalind, who looked up with glassy eyes.

"You know, I think I'll sit this one out too," Skye said. Rosy smiled.

Iantha though, bless her, was no good at reading these looks. How could she be? She wasn't there for the awful year their mom died.

She came over, all a tither, talking about what help the girls were and how much more fun it would be if they joined. Skye was about to open her mouth and decline the offer when Rosalind, who was much worse at saying "no" because she hated disappointing people, agreed.

Skye sighed and followed Iantha and Rosalind to the kitchen, sensing tension in Rosalind's demeanor. Skye stayed tight to Rosy's side as they baked, bent upon being her faithful defender.

When the cookies came out of the oven, Iantha gave Rosalind the bowl of chocolate kisses to place on top. Rosalind quickly waved them away.

"Come on Rosy, didn't you tell me once that this was your favorite part?" Iantha asked.

"Yes but…" Rosalind started.

"I know you would do a fabulous job. In all those old photographs, your cookies look so perfect!" Iantha said. She was referring to the ones of Rosalind and their mother baking peanut butter kisses.

"Yes. But they only came out perfect because of our mother."

"So let's keep the tradition alive!" Iantha said.

She meant well. She always did. Skye knew that. Skye also knew that she was hurting Rosalind. Rosalind's favorite holiday tradition was baking these cookies with their mother. All the little kids would help of course, but the part where you stick the little chocolates into the top, their mother always saved that part for just her and Rosalind. And none of the other kids minded because they knew that Rosalind loved that part and they knew that the cookies turned out perfectly that way, because Rosalind was the best _putter-of-chocolate-in-cookies_ that there was. Rosalind eyes were watering and Skye, her faithful defender, came to her defense.

"You aren't our mother!"

Skye's outburst was met with several stares and the kitchen that was full of noise and life a few minutes seemed dead. Skye felt her heart in her throat. She should stop before she did any more damage. She was like a hurricane though. Once she got spinning there was no stopping her. "You can't replace her. You can't replace her because she was the greatest woman in the whole world. You can't even pretend to be her. You can't pretend that Daddy loves you as much as he loved _her,_ you can't pretend that these traditions are your traditions, because they were _hers_, you can't pretend that you love us as much as she did, because you don't. She loved us so much she died for us. She died giving birth to Batty. She loved us." Skye was running out of steam and she felt hot tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "Rosy and Mom are supposed to do the chocolate kisses," she said finally.

There was silence in a kitchen that no one knew could ever be silent. It was the kind of silence that is drawn out in the worst ways possible and that is louder that any silence ever was (a paradox not lost on anyone, especially Jane). Then Rosalind began to cry, really cry, and she went running for the door.

Iantha looked shell shocked and with a quiet "excuse me" she left the kitchen. Now the silence in the kitchen was deafening and the tension was palpable. Mr. Penderwick laid a warm, steadying hand on Skye's shoulder.

"Why don't we all just calm down now, ok?" he said gently.

Skye shrugged him off. She looked wild. Skye pulled away and ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time. When she slammed her bedroom door, the whole house shuddered. Jeffrey surged forward, after her, but Jane held him back with her hands firmly on his shoulders.

"But…" he started, staring after Skye. He wanted nothing more than to comfort her.

Jane voice was a firm as her grip. "Let's get you home." She shoved his coat in his hands, wrapping her own around her shoulders and dragged him outside.

Mr. Penderwick took Ben in his arms and followed Iantha into the office. Tommy slowly dissolved into the woodwork, never being one to handle drama very well. And Batty was left standing all alone in the little kitchen.

* * *

Rosalind ran outside into the snow, tears freezing on her eyelashes. She forgot a coat, and the cold stung her skin, but she didn't stop. She ran out of their little yard, under the garden hedge and through the gardens. She came upon the little pond, frozen over at this point in the year, and she ran smack into a boy in a baseball cap.

"Rosy, what's wrong!?" he asked. Rosalind didn't explain, just buried her head into his chest and wept. Cagney held her for a long time, as the shadows in the gardens grew long and the evening fell fast. When she had calmed down somewhat, he took off his coat and wrapped it around her shuddering shoulders.

"Please tell me Rosy. Is it that boy?" he asked.

"No, no," Rosalind said, feeling it was her duty to come to Tommy's aid here. Rosalind squared her shoulders, suddenly mortified to be seen in such a fragile and dismal state, and wiped away her tears. "I am fine," she said.

Cagney looked unconvinced. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Rosalind nodded. "I will be. I just need some time away from the cottage," she said, gulping down the cold evening air.

Cagney smiled and offered her his arm. "Perhaps a stroll through the gardens then," he said. Rosalind considered his arm for a moment, then looped it with hers. "Perhaps," she said. Cagney smiled.

They walked for a long while in the garden. Rosalind rested her head against his shoulder and tilted her head back so she could look up at the stars. Skye's name was fitting she decided. The sky was always changing. Sometimes it showed it silvery night side, with stars and a moon and rockets. Other times it put up a wall of blue. Sometimes it filled with angry clouds like a summer storm, striking out with lightning, thunder brewing inside clouds. Sometimes the sky became so confused it would swirl with all sorts of dark angry colors that it would resemble a bruised knee after a soccer match (the ones Skye always wore like a battle scar). Sometimes it was clear. Sometimes, it let you gaze upon it. Other times, the sun was shining so bright it hurt, burnt.

"Rosalind?" Cagney asked.

"Hmm?" she hummed. She felt content there in the garden with him.

"Why were you at the pond the summer night so many years ago?" he asked.

Rosalind flushed. She answered slowly. "I suppose I was looking for some fresh air, and I saw you, and I… well I was snooping I suppose. I had quite the crush on you," Rosalind admitted.

"You did?" he seemed surprised. Rosalind would have thought he could have guessed as much. She just nodded.

"I didn't know," he said, thoughtfully.

"Don't worry about it. It was a dumb first crush," she said, almost laughing at his sudden confusion.

"No it's just… I wish I knew. I could have been more careful about what I said. I didn't… I hope I didn't cause you any heartbreak," he said, carefully.

"No heartbreak," Rosalind assured him. "Just first crush."

"I am honored then," he said. Rosalind smiled.

They walked in an easy silence for a while until they came upon a gazebo, tucked away in the bushes and dripping in soft white Christmas lights.

"Dance with me Rosy," he said.

"Excuse me?"

He pulled her after him onto the creaky wood floor of the gazebo. "I think I owe you as much, don't you think?" he asked, holding out his hand. "Dance with me."

* * *

Skye ran her hands through her hair. It was long, too long, but she was trying to grow it out like her mother's. She hadn't meant to say those things to Iantha. She just meant to defend Rosalind, but she lost her dumb temper again.

She went to Rosalind's side table, but what she was looking for was not there. Skye hurried to Rosalind's suitcase and, not bothering to be careful about how she went about it, she began digging through it. She finally found what she was looking for when she was sitting amongst a pile of clothes that all smelled like her sister. A picture, in a heavy wooden frame, of her mother. Her beautiful mother, with blue eyes and blonde hair like herself, but that was more beautiful than she would ever be. More patient to.

Iantha was great, better than anyone could ever ask for when it came to step mothers. She didn't deserve what Skye said to her. She was just trying to bring back the memories of their mother. But how were they supposed to move on, if they kept trying to bring her back? Nothing could bring her mother back. No amount of peanut butter kisses could fix it.

Skye looked at the picture in her hands. It was fading on the edges, like her memories. Skye hated it. Sometimes she struggled to remember things about her, like exactly how many freckles she had on her nose or which side of her smile she had a dimple. Pictures helped. She had twelve on her nose and the dimple was on the right side. But there were other things. Like the way her laugh sounded. Or the way she smelled on summer nights. Or the way the corners of her eyes wrinkled when she smiled.

Skye began to cry.

* * *

Jane walked next to Jeffrey, and he wondered about how much she looked like Skye right now. She was so determined. She had one hand on his back and was propelling him toward Arundel at a brisk pace that he almost had to jog to keep up with.

"Maybe I should just talk to her," he offered for about the twelfth time.

"Skye will talk when she is ready," Jane said gently, just as she had every other time he offered it.

"Jane, I can't just stand by while she is hurting," he said.

"Jeffrey, I know you love her," Jeffrey sputtered but Jane pushed on. "But I loved her first. I think she needs to be alone." There was finality in her voice.

Jane looked sideways at Jeffrey, who was looking like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over his head. "I know," she said. "I see the way you look at her. You are my best friend. She is my sister. She loves you too I think," Jane said, very matter-of-factly, like she didn't just turn Jeffrey's world upside down.

"She loves me?" he croaked finally.

Jane nodded. "She always loved you. But now I think it might me more than a simply platonic love."

Jane wondered if she should stop. Jeffrey looked like he was choking. He was kind of turning blue. Maybe it was more of a purplish hue…

"And…?" Jeffrey exploded. He looked like he was going to pop.

"And that's about it. She loves you. Even if she doesn't know it yet. Or won't admit it," Jane said. "Now Jeffrey, I really must be getting home to my mess of a sister. Mess of a family really. I am pleased I could enlighten you on your relationship status though," she said.

Jeffrey realized only then that they were standing at the front steps of Arundel.

* * *

Batty felt very alone. Everyone in the whole house seemed to have disappeared very suddenly without her. Even Rosalind!

Batty was thinking about what Skye said in her tornado of words. About Mommy dying because of her. Was it her fault? Batty felt a tear slip down her cheek. That wouldn't do. She didn't want to cry if Rosalind wasn't there to comfort her.

Rosalind. Oh why did she go? Batty hurried to the coat rack by the door, pulling the coat on and shoving her feet into Daddy's boots, because Hound had chewed a hole in her others, and Rosalind had yet to drive her to the store and pick out new ones.

She had to find Rosalind. She had to make sure she was ok. She had to make sure that it wasn't her fault that Mommy died.


	5. Dancing on Thin Ice

Chapter Five

_Dancing on Thin Ice_

_Thank you guys for the response, it means so much to me! I am going to go through with this story, I swear. However, January is a crazy month so I can't promise frequent updates anymore. You are all amazing for staying with me and this story though! I only wish I would have started it earlier so that I could have it done when everyone is still in the Christmas spirit, but what can you do? I promise Jeffrey will be in the next chapter, but this one is all about family :) _

_I don't own the Penderwicks._

* * *

Batty pulled her coat tighter around herself to protect against the cold wind. She stumbled a bit over her own feet in her too big boots. She kept hearing Skye's voice in her head. _"She loved us so much she died for us. She died giving birth to Batty. She loved us."_

Batty scrubbed at her face with her mittens, trying to dry her tears. She would not cry. Batty pushed her way under the hedge tunnel and came upon two sets of footprints in the snow. One set was heavy and big, the other small and graceful. Batty decided to follow them around the hedges that sagged under the weight of snow and around the thunderbolt man. She thought she lost the footprints at this point and tears were threatening once more when she spotted Rosalind just across the frog pond.

She was…_ dancing._ With Cagney! They were standing in a… what was the word… Kazeebo? They were standing in a kazeebo that was covered in a million little lights and they were dancing to music that only they could hear. Batty was relieved that Rosalind wasn't crying anymore, but she was close to crying herself. She had to get to Rosalind. The frog pond was frozen over. It would be a short cut to her sister. It would be like ice skating.

* * *

Jane was lost in thought as she traced her and Jeffrey's footprints back to cottage. She was thinking about Jeffrey and Skye. Skye would kill her if she ever found out what exactly she had just told Jeffrey, but Jane knew it was true. Skye always scoffed at the idea of love, but the walls around her heart, sky high and painted blue, were just a façade, an optical illusion. She had a way of making you think that she was invincible, that she needed no one else, but Jane saw through it in a way only a sister could. Everybody needs somebody.

Jane was so far gone in her poetic musing of love, she almost didn't hear the scream. It was coming from the gardens and it was unmistakably her little sister. Jane didn't think. She ran, following her instincts to where she guessed the might find Batty.

Jane had come to know the Arundel gardens well. She could have found her way through them in the dark. She dove under bushes, hurdled flower beds, and skidded around the thunderbolt man so fast that she thought she might have literally left burn marks on the ground.

When she arrived at the frog pond, the scene in front of her unfolded in slow motion. Batty was in the middle of the pond with only her head and arms visible from the hole in the ice that she had evidently fallen through. Her little skinny arms were keeping her from completely falling in, but she was slipping. Jane also saw Rosalind across the pond standing next to Cagney in the gazebo. You could see her, trying to understand what exactly had happened, and then a look of recognition and fear darkened her features. Their eyes met for a brief second as time stopped and Jane could hear nothing but her heart beat against her ribcage.

Time collapsed in on itself.

Rosalind ran down the steps of the gazebo and Jane sprinted forward, reaching the pond before anyone else. Jane fell on her hand and knees and inched forward on the ice on all fours to distribute her weight, because she and Skye watched a documentary once where the guy did this. Jane could tell that the ice below her was very thin. She edged forward slowly, picking up speed as she gained confidence.

Confidence became overconfidence.

The ice by her right hand cracked and opened up in a wide gash. Jane got an uncomfortably cold hand and a humbling dose of fear that tasted acidic on her tongue. Batty's eyes were watering.

"Jane," she whimpered.

"It's ok," Jane said, much more confidently then she felt. She steadied herself and slid forward.

"I was just trying to get to Rosalind in the kazeebo," said Batty, slipping even more as she tried desperately to explain her position to Jane.

"Gazebo," Jane corrected through teeth clenched in concentration. Even under these circumstances she would not let her sister have bad pronunciation. "Calm down ok? Focus on holding on."

Jane managed to reach Batty, only to find that getting her out of the hole in the ice would be harder than she originally thought. She shifted her weight forward so that she could reach down towards her. The ice groaned but, miraculously, held. It was an ungraceful maneuver, but Jane was able to pull her sister from the hole by the back of her sopping wet jacket. Except for one boot that was lost somewhere beneath the ice (at least until spring), Batty seemed to be all in one piece. Jane took her hand, now as cold as the ice they were lying on. "Let's go home," she said.

Cagney scooped up Batty as soon as they had crawled within arm's reach. Rosalind pulled Jane to her feet and wrapped Cagney's long, black coat that she had been wearing around Jane's shoulders. The four started for the cottage, Cagney carrying Batty and Rosalind supporting Jane with an arm around her shoulders. They were moving as quickly as Cagney could without jostling the little girl too much. Seeing him carry Batty gave Rosalind an odd sensation that was something like déjà vu.

Skye came running out of the house when they drew near, having seen the distraught group from her window. She was shouting incoherently. As she came upon them, they realized her shouting was a series of rapid fire questions.

"Is she ok?"

"What happened?"

"Why is she wet?"

Jane stepped forward and embraced Skye, stopping her questions for a moment by catching her off guard. "She is fine," Jane said, still clinging tightly to her. In the rush of the moment, Jane had felt invincible, running on adrenaline. But from now on she would leave the heroic, fearless deeds to Skye.

Iantha, Daddy, and Tommy came rushing out then too, undoubtedly alerted to the matter by Skye's shouting. They crowed around Cagney as he kept pushing toward the cottage. Once they were all inside, Cagney gently laid Batty down on the couch and backed up as the family descended around her. Skye knelt by her side but Batty spoke first.

"Skye, is it my fault that Mommy died?" she asked in a small voice.

"No," Skye said firmly. "None of this is your fault."

"But you said…"

"I know what I said. I didn't mean it. I was just angry ok?" Skye said. Her voice was trembling and tears stung the corners of her eyes. Skye felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She glanced back. Iantha.

"I didn't mean it," she whispered again. Iantha squeezed her shoulder.

It was a night of growing back together. Skye and Jane helped Iantha make dinner. They made pancakes, at Batty's request. It wasn't long before raucous laughter could be heard in the kitchen. Rosalind stayed close to Batty the entire night as they watched old Disney movies on VCR. Batty curled up next to her on the old, squishy couch and laid her head on Rosalind's lap. Batty watched out of the corner of her eye when Tommy sat down on the other side of Rosalind. He put an arm carefully around her shoulders and Rosalind leaned against him slightly. Batty smiled when Tommy did. Mr. Penderwick had settled in the easy chair with his paper, peeking over the top of it every once and a while as if to make sure they were all still there.

* * *

Skye was lying on her back on her bed staring at the shadows dancing around on the ceiling. She was waiting for Rosalind, who was putting Batty to bed. It was taking her a while. Skye guess that Batty had probably asked for extra bedtime stories. After a night like this one, there is no way Rosalind would say no. There was a click of the door opening, and the room was flooded briefly with warm light from the hall. Rosalind's slender silhouette stepped into the room and then the room was plunged back into darkness, with only the pale blue moonlight filtering through the curtains to light Rosalind's way.

Skye lay very still pretending to be asleep as she waited for Rosalind to reach her own bed. Once she did, Rosalind shifted around for a moment, trying to get comfortable, and then she was still. Skye counted her breaths. It was a habit of hers, but usually it was Jane's breaths that she was counting.

_1…2…3… _Skye couldn't keep herself focused long enough to even count. Her mind was racing. _4…5…_ She gave up.

"Rosy?" she whispered into the dark.

"Hmmm?" Rosalind hummed.

"Is Batty ok?" Skye asked.

"She is fine."

Skye was relieved, but still felt guilty. "Rosy?"

"Hmmm?"

"Can I sleep with you?" Skye hadn't asked to do that since she was five. Skye heard Rosalind roll over to face her.

"Yes," she said.

Skye crawled out of bed and ran through the pools of moonlight on the floor to Rosalind's bed. Rosalind slid over obediently and Skye crawled in. They laid shoulder to shoulder in the silence that Rosalind knew wouldn't last for long. Sure enough...

"I am sorry, Rosy," Skye said, in an uncharacteristically small voice.

She felt Rosalind roll over onto her side to face her. Skye did the same. They were lying so close, their noses were almost touching. Skye's slender features were highlighted by the moonlight in ways that remind Rosalind of her mother more than ever.

Her mother liked the stars just like Skye does. Rosalind remembered looking out her window when she was supposed to be in bed and seeing her mother standing out on the back porch, her face tilted up towards the sky looking much like Skye does now in the pale moonlight.

"You shouldn't be saying sorry to me," Rosalind whispered.

"I know I need to apologize to Iantha." Skye sighed. "I just… I miss Mom, Rosy."

Now it was Rosalind's turn to sigh. "Skye, I know. So do I. But Iantha is the greatest stepmother anyone can ever ask for. She was just trying to bring back Mom's memory."

"She can't bring her back!" Skye said, too loudly. Her voice sounded out of place in the otherwise silent house.

"No," said Rosalind patiently. "But memories are all we have left. While they can't bring someone back to us, they keep that person alive in our hearts," she said. She sounded very old. "People are finite. They live and they die; some sooner that we hope. And all that is left is the memory people have of them. That memory is the closest we as humans will ever come to being infinite. So that's why we have to keep remembering, even when it hurts."

Skye was silent for a long time. "You sound like Jane," she said finally.

Rosalind flopped onto her back, exasperated, and gave Skye a bump with her shoulder. "I thought it sounded good," she said defensively, but Skye could hear a smile behind her words.

"It did," Skye said, and she meant it. Infinity was a concept Skye did a great deal of thinking about, and thinking about her mother as infinite made her feel a little better.

Rosalind was just starting to drift off to sleep when Skye spoke again.

"I am just really bad at letting people in."

Rosalind laughed fondly. "You aren't the most open person in the world, no."

Skye was quiet again, so Rosy closed her eyes for a second time.

"It's just the more you let them in the more it's going to hurt when they walk away, you know?" Skye said. Her voice was cracking. Skye was in a rare and rather vulnerable form. Rosalind gave up trying to sleep and she shifted over so she was facing Skye again.

"I mean that's why I punch every boy in the face that tries to kiss me," Skye said. She was on a roll, so Rosalind kept quiet and just listened. "I am scared to let people in because I am scared they are going to leave like Mom left."

Skye was a little mortified to have said all that, but a little more relieved. She looked over at Rosalind, who was at a complete loss as to what to say. Rosalind realized that while she had become quite good at comforting Jane and Batty and Ben and prided herself in this, she had no clue how to comfort Skye.

She settled on pulling Skye against her in hug, despite Skye's usual aversion of such displays of physical affection. She wasn't being herself at the moment anyway. Skye didn't pull away. Rosalind was thinking about her mother and about Skye socking all sorts of poor boys in the nose, and a small, playful smiled pulled at her lips.

"Skye, why haven't you punched Jeffrey yet?" she asked.

Skye snorted. "Well he hasn't tried to kiss me yet, has he?" she said. She meant it sarcastically, but Rosalind just bobbed her shoulders.

"I don't know, has he?" she asked.

"No!" Skye exploded. "Why would you ask that?" she hissed. Rosalind was giggling as Skye smoldered.

"Aw come on Skye, he has had a crush on you for years," she said. Here, Skye faltered a bit, forgetting to glower threateningly and instead just looking like… well like she had been hit by a truck. "And you are totally smitten," Rosalind added. That brought Skye back. She glared impressively.

"I have never been smitten over anything in my whole life," she said. "_Especially _boys. _Especially _Jeffrey."

"You don't have any feeling for him at all? Not even really tiny feelings?"

"Rosalind," Skye groaned. She ignored the questions and the new, unwelcome feeling that settled in her stomach like a bowling ball.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Skye was grateful. There was a click, and a sliver of light shot across the room shining in Skye's eyes. Then Jane's shadow filled the crack between the door and door frame and another little shadow peaked out from around her waist. Batty.

"Can we sleep with you, Rosalind?" asked Jane. Batty was nodding vigorously. "Oh, you and Skye," Jane amended, noticing the second sister already there.

"Of course," Rosalind said, and the two sisters raced to the bed. Jane crawled in next to Skye, and Batty climbed over so she could settle in right between Skye and Rosalind. Batty curled up between them, resting her head against Skye's shoulder. Skye looked surprised and unsure of herself when she gently wrapped and arm around her littlest sister. Rosalind smiled at Skye over Batty's head before she closed her eyes. She was just dozing off for the third time that night, when there was yet another knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Rosalind asked, confused. She was fairly certain she didn't have any more sisters that might want to crawl in with her. Light appeared in the doorway again, and another shadow filled to space. Iantha.

"Are you girls asleep?" she whispered.

"Not yet," said Rosalind.

Iantha slipped into the room, not bothering to close the door behind her, and she sat down on the edge of the bed looking down at her four girls.

Skye shifted a little uncomfortably. "I am sorry!" she said quickly, before Iantha could say anything. Her voice was still so small. "I didn't mean the things I said. I was just upset because I felt like you were trying to take her place. I mean you weren't… I wasn't being gentlemanly. Or kind. Or fair…" Skye was rambling in a very Jane-like fashion. Iantha cut her off.

"I understand Skye," Iantha said gently. The tension in Skye's shoulders relaxed. "I don't ever want you girls to think I am trying to take her place, ok? She sounds like she was an incredible mother. I don't want to try to replace that."

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the sound of five girls breathing softly. It was Batty that finally spoke. "You are an incredible mother too." All the girls agreed.

* * *

Mr. Penderwick watched on fondly through the slightly opened door. Iantha pulled their daughters into a bear hug. They were giggling and kind of crying, but the tears were happy. His five girls.

"Oh Elizabeth," he whispered, tilting his head upwards, where he imagined she was watching. "If only you could see these girls now." Perhaps she could.

Hound's big shaggy head bumped into the back of his knee. Mr. Penderwick gave him a fond scratch behind the ears.

"Bene est omnibus," he said to Hound, who wagged his tail happily in response.

_All is well._


End file.
